


For The Unquiet Heart

by mansikka



Series: Shade Falls On Us [2]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Angst, Injured Alec Lightwood, M/M, POV Magnus, References to Addiction, Temporary Amnesia, Worried Magnus Bane
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-16
Updated: 2017-09-16
Packaged: 2018-12-26 12:16:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12058818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mansikka/pseuds/mansikka
Summary: Magnus is waiting for Alec to join him in the loft after he's called to an unexpected mission. But the romantic evening Magnus has planned is ruined when Alec is brought to the loft unconscious following an attack.Now he must play a waiting game; Alec is in a coma-like state, and though Magnus is aware of the things that have injured Alec, and has an idea of what might happen to him, there is nothing he knows for certain. All he knows in this moment is that he desperately needs Alec back.





	For The Unquiet Heart

**Author's Note:**

> Hello :)
> 
> This is a mirror to the first part of the series, and it's the only one that will be - the rest will progress the story from alternating points of view.

Maybe it’s ironic, Magnus thinks to himself as he pours a drink, that living his existence as an immortal has made him overly aware of the fragility of life.  

He’s had friends come and go, watched lovers wither and fade, made acquaintances that have been snatched away from him before he ever got the chance to really know them at all.  

People have revered him, purely because of his longevity. Feared him, due to the expanse of the unknown. Left him; because who can ever keep up with an immortal that embodies all it is to be forever living? Who can stand to be in the presence of one who will just keep on going, when you are nothing but unanimated flesh and bone, decaying back into the earth from which you were born, at the end of your life?

Magnus knows this. He knows the risk that comes with falling for a mortal. He’s done it often enough to know how the air will taste when he’s left alone; either because his lover’s been stolen from him by their timely demise, or simply because he’s just too much, and they can’t face living in his immortal shade.

It tastes of bitterness. The sharpest of citrus fruits cutting into his tongue to follow a thousand dishes prepared with karela; yet he has to acknowledge that there is sweetness there too. Undertones of honey and chocolate, hints of freshly ripened figs, favorite memories flavored with the finest champagne accompanied with the sweetest of strawberries.  

He savors them all, Magnus smiles to himself as he takes a sip of his drink and steps out on to the balcony breathing deep, chasing away such bittersweet thoughts on this still fall evening, as he watches the light bleed away from the sky with the setting of the sun, and tells himself to think of pleasanter things.

Alec.

Alec is his sunrise, the beating of his heart, the courage that keeps him from slipping on the rare occasions when things are too overwhelming. He is his first breath of the morning, his last image as he closes his eyes at night, the shroud that holds back the onslaught of memories in the form of nightmares, and the daydreams of distraction that leave him smiling softly to himself throughout his day, no matter what he’s doing, or the company he keeps.

Alec is… different. And Magnus has spent time contemplating why that might be. From the moment he laid eyes on him in Pandemonium, to every second they’ve spent in each other’s company since; there is a draw to Alec, a pull, a charge and connection that Magnus is certain has woven vibrancy and fortitude through his magic. As though Alec is the thread that holds him together, yet could be the very thing to unravel him.  

He aches when Alec aches, yearns for him when they’re apart, misses him even when he’s only as far away as in another room. It’s as though Alec completes him, and if that isn’t an odd way for an immortal to be feeling when he doesn’t need anyone, has shut out an entire world that might hurt him, because of what was snatched from him at such a young age.

Innocence, he thinks, frowning a little. Acceptance, he adds, frowning a little more. The dream of the unwavering love of a family strikes another reminder in his gut leaving him flinching. All of these things; and though Magnus would never now change who, and what he is, sometimes he can’t help being reminded of that eight-year-old boy before his cat eyes. When he had a home, a mother, a simple future laid out before him.

But Alec, Alec has made that long struggle of loneliness manageable. All those times he’s fixed a smile on his face when he’s been left alone, had no one to turn to, no confidante to just listen when he’s in a low mood. He’s been good at hiding such emotions, Magnus smiles to himself, but Alec, Alec sees right through the mask he slots on in company. Knows from the slightest shift in his expression when he needs to talk, or doesn’t, or really wants to just fall into his arms and be held.  

No one else has given him that, Magnus thinks to himself, his heart giving a slow stir as though in agreement, a warmth seeping out and soothing him, safe in the knowledge that Alec will be here soon.

Sliding out his cell from his pocket, Magnus thumbs over the message Alec had sent him on leaving for the mission he’d been called to and sighs, but there’s a smile laced through it, because even though Alec had called as he’d been preparing himself, to tell him he was going, he’d also backed it up with that message Magnus is staring at now. Never able to resist telling Magnus that he loves him ever since that first time, just in case something should happen to either one of them.  

Which is always a risk, of course.

Not tonight though, Magnus thinks, with a deep, satisfied smile, already thinking of Alec’s favorite food that he plans on conjuring for him right there into the loft to eat on that balcony. Tonight feels quiet, closed in, comfortable. And Magnus can’t wait to have Alec alone just to himself.

* * *

Panic makes people do incredible, senseless things.

That can be the only justification for what is happening, Magnus thinks, with an increasingly frenetic beating heart, frantically streaming magic from his hands in an effort to put Alec back together where he’s laid out prone on his couch.

Just a few seconds. Just a few seconds more, and perhaps he could have done more to prevent the flow of venom currently seeping its way through Alec’s veins. Just a few seconds; if Jace, or Izzy, or anybody would have thought to call him to portal over to where they’d found Alec lifeless on the ground, instead of carrying him in an ungainly heap to his front door.  

 _If_ , he seethes, flourishing his fingers with deepening fury. Because now it’s too late. Too late to do anything but try to keep Alec comfortable, keep the pain away, and in the few seconds he might get with him before he slips under, try to prepare him as best he can.

He banishes the worried siblings crowding around him in his apartment, carries Alec cradled gently in his arms through to rest on their bed. Sponges away the dirt, and heals the remainder of the other outward evidence of his battle, including ichor burns among those hundreds of punctures from fangs. Then steadies himself as best he can for what lies ahead.  

Magnus knows of Odzer demons, though he’s never witnessed the extent of their destruction for himself in his entire life. He’s heard things, though. Of venom that paralyses into a state of induced torpor. Suspended in the dimensions in between, as details of existence are siphoned away, leaving victims both aware and unaware of their surroundings, and who they are. Vague impressions of their former lives.

Because it’s unheard of, Magnus thinks, swallowing with difficulty at the future that lies ahead for Alec, that victims of Odzer demons return fully to themselves. There’s always something that’s different; a never ending dependency on their venom, tethering a victim to those demons for all of their lives. A weakening of the mind, soul, and body, leaving the victim little more than a shell of their former selves. Sometimes there’s a period of excruciating pain that’s followed by an even worse death. But for Alec, as a Shadowhunter with angelic blood flowing through his veins, it’s a little more complicated. Though in what ways, Magnus has only the vaguest of idea.

“Alexander…” he whispers, pleading with his tears to not start falling yet, to not let Alec wake to see him fearful, to wait until Alec is suspended in that in between to truly begin to grieve for himself.  

* * *

Even from across the room, where he’s opened the window just enough to get a gulp of air, Magnus knows that Alec is waking. He turns to catch his eyes dancing behind his eyelids, watches the twitching of his fingertips, wishes that the lips that were parting were about to press against his own.

He can’t even have that though, Magnus thinks, feeling deprived and selfish as he watches Alec stir. It’s dangerous for anyone to get too close to a person infected with Odzer venom, too high a risk of becoming infected himself—even if whatever damage it might cause him might be entirely different to what Alec’s about to go through. Though that doesn’t mean he’ll leave Alec’s side through a second of this, Magnus thinks, bracing himself before taking a step closer to the bed.    

“Alexander…”

Magnus watches Alec strain to lift his head and the way it falls straight back against the pillow, and wants to cry out at the injustice of it all. But he doesn’t, instead turns a watery smile on him and perches on the edge of the bed, allowing himself just the sweeping of his fingers against his forehead.

“Don’t push yourself,” he urges, hating the way he hears his own voice crack, and for the concern it puts on Alec’s face. Alec is so beautiful, Magnus thinks, his breath stolen by the truth of it, his eyes lingering over every one of his features as though it might be the final time he gets to look.  

It might be, Magnus realizes, his stomach plummeting hard enough to make him jolt. The outcome of whatever’s awaiting Alec on the other side of that coma-like state he’s about to go into is uncertain, and for all Magnus knows, he could be entirely transformed.  

He won’t be, Magnus curses himself, telling himself that he’s being overdramatic and irrational; Alec may be different when he comes back to him, but he will still be Alec, he will still be the man that he loves. The question is, for how long will he get to love him?

Magnus bites back a sob that Alec’s eyes fly to, and tries hard to morph it into a smile.

“There was an attack,” he manages to get out, watching as Alec’s fingers begin to slide across the sheets towards his own.

“Yeah,” Alec says, trying to look down at himself, “yeah, I remember that. But what—”

“It doesn’t matter now,” Magnus soothes, slotting their hands together and holding on to Alec as though he can be his lifeline, watching out the corner of his eye as he strains to move.

“How’s everyone else? What happened? Is—”

“Everyone else is fine,” Magnus assures him, his heart aching for Alec’s concern for everyone else being his priority; why can’t he ever think of himself first? And if he sounds bitter, it’s because he is; this was supposed to be an easy mission for them all, Alec had told him as much over the phone. Yet Alec is the only one that was injured. Alec is the only one whose life is forever altered, while those around him fussed and fumbled, delaying getting him help.

 _Help_ , Magnus thinks, closing his eyes to the tears brimming, if he’d had just a few seconds more, perhaps he could have done something. Stopped the venom before it took hold in his veins, kept the worst of what’s about to happen to Alec from even being a possibility. But now—

“Then—”

“No one else sustained injuries aside from you,” Magnus assures him, not wishing such things on anyone, though full of fury that Alec was left alone to be hurt.

“Injuries?” Alec repeats, once again straining to lift his head up to look for them.

“They are not visible,”

“But then—”

“Alexander,” Magnus says then, fighting and failing to keep his voice from cracking, “you will be fine. You will just have to give it time,”

“Give it time,” Alec repeats, his eyes widening in alarm, “give it time for what?”

But then the venom comes to claim him.  

Magnus tries to take comfort in the fact that he doesn’t look to be in pain. There’s no arching up from the bed in agony, nor twitching that says there’s poison boiling beneath his skin. If anything, he looks peaceful. Just as beautiful as Alec always looks when he is sleeping, yet so far away from Magnus now, that he could be in an entire other world.

He is in a way, Magnus amends, and now that the risk of contamination from the venom is no longer a threat, finally allows himself to drape over Alec’s body in furious sobs, claiming a kiss that he pleads will soon be returned.

* * *

“I miss you,”  

Magnus wonders if Alec can even hear him. He has no idea what happens in the blankness of the venom-induced suspension Alec’s trapped in, but he says it all the same, even kisses it into his knuckles as he raises his hand up to his mouth.  

Pressing his hand over his chest so he can reassure himself Alec’s heart is still beating away there beneath his skin, Magnus sighs to himself, shunning the fire messages that keep coming to him, and the cell phone that seems to do nothing but ring. Nothing is more important than Alec laid lifeless here before him, and Magnus doesn’t care one bit that his duties as High Warlock are slipping. He does what he can—what he must—from the bed beside Alec, rarely leaving the room unless he has to. Everything else can wait; he has no other priority, no other pressing matter to attend to other than Alec. There is nothing more important than him.

There isn’t even a timescale for how long he might be like this, Magnus sighs to himself, indulging in allowing his fingers to stroke a path over his forearm then pulling back in haste. He can’t know what Alec is experiencing. He can’t even know what he’s thinking; what if he’s forgotten him in this world he’s in, and is terrified of this disembodied touch?  

He can’t have forgotten him, Magnus pleads with himself, his heart racing in terror at the thought; what if Alec’s forgotten him?

“I love you. I love you so much,”

Chiding himself for how close he’s gotten without asking for permission, Magnus carefully swipes out his hand to wipe away his tears that have begun to wick into Alec’s shirt. A pointless action, he knows; but he’s missing Alec so very badly, that he’s torn between wanting to respect his space and not overwhelm him, and craving Alec’s touch so much it hurts having to keep any distance between them.

“Please, Alexander. Please; come back,”

* * *

Magnus remembers several scandals descending on the Shadow World, when Shadowhunters have been struck down by astriola. The stigma of Nephilim laying with anything than other part-angels has forever been present, eased over the last century or so with more forward-thinking, of course, but still something whispered about by those thriving on gossip.

But to those inflicted by that demon pox in the past, no amount of whispering or backward thinking could take away from the agony of their transformation, nor give them a way back to themselves; not before a cure existed, anyway.

There is no cure for what is happening to Alec.  

Alec isn’t at fault for what is happening to him anyway, Magnus sighs, animating Alec’s limbs as he lays there lifeless so his muscles don’t atrophy. Though he’s sure there will be those throughout the Shadow World that feel Alec was inviting his sickness—by being with _him_.

This, though, Magnus thinks, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to his forehead, this will be entirely different. He’s read up on Odzer attacks these past few days that Alec’s been under, and all the records he can summon speak of the venom infecting Mundanes, not Shadowhunters. The stories are gruesome; Mundanes driven mad by the strength of their addiction that they have no knowledge of, never mind the source of it. The tortuous, unbearable deaths for those who are too far gone following their stupor to even crave the venom that might prolong them into that kind of hell.  

But Alec is strong, Magnus smiles, closing his eyes for a second before slotting their fingers together and squeezing, so a death from the Odzer attack is not something he fears. Not too much, anyway, Magnus amends, pleading with forces he doesn’t know not to make that a reality. It’s the unknown that scares him more than anything.

If Alec wakes addicted to the very venom that’s put him under, then Magnus’ first task is tracking those very demons down, to milk them of their venom and study it enough to make a synthetic one. If that’s even possible, he adds to himself, shaking his head against the idea of the alternative. Magnus can’t imagine Alec easily accepting that he’ll forever need to ingest demon venom in order to sustain his life. Because it isn't an addiction in the strictest sense of the word. It's a dependency, a need he'll have to keep himself from sinking under.

And what would the Clave make of such an outcome, Magnus huffs to himself. Perhaps the New York Institute has come on in leaps and bounds of transparency with the Downworlders, but that’s only under Alec’s guidance. A Head of Institute infected and addicted to demon venom, though? Magnus can’t imagine much of a future in that.  

There are endless possibilities of difficult consequences of all this for them to have to deal with—and Magnus does mean _them_ ; because there is not a chance in hell he’s going to let Alec go through this alone. Even if he does reject him, or try to push him away.

Would Alec push him away, when his very way of life is in jeopardy, Magnus worries to himself. Would Alec reject the parts of him that so starkly highlight what’s been done to him—even though it’s not Magnus’ fault—that he’s merely a reminder of that?

There is so much for them to talk about, Magnus sighs, hesitating for a moment then tucking himself into Alec’s side.

“Come back to me, Alexander,” he whispers, though it echoes out loudly in the stillness of the room, “please come back,”

* * *

“Remember our first date?” Magnus says, smiling in fond memory himself. Remembering a pool table, and the words they’d spoken before they’d begun speaking of _exes_ —or lack thereof. More than anything, Magnus remembers the way Alec allowed himself to _be_ himself. Didn’t shy away from pressing up close to Magnus when they were sat together or at that table, and never once stopping his eyes from lingering over him in the ways Magnus had seen him doing so many times in the past.  

“Even on that walk home, when you didn’t say anything, I could still feel you,” he confesses, hesitating for a second then allowing himself to curl Alec’s fingers through his own. He’s reasoned with himself that _that_ is permissible if nothing else; he can offer that comfort to Alec while suspended in this in between world he’s in, and only that.

“And when you started pointing out our differences,” he continues, swallowing hard at that memory, “it was nothing that I wasn’t expecting. I even fed you some of your words; I’ve heard them so many times in the past, it was impossible not to. I suppose I was trying to come to terms with you walking away from me, like everyone else.

“But you didn’t,” Magnus says, and his words choke up in wonder at the thought, “you didn’t. And for every difficulty we’ve faced since then, you’ve never pulled away from me. You’ve hesitated at most, but you’ve never gone anywhere. You’ve always been right here, by my side, trying to make the best of things. I don’t know how I can ever repay that,”

Magnus sucks in a breath then, trying to hold back the fresh onslaught of tears threatening to tumble their way down his cheeks. What is the sense in crying anyway, he scorns himself; it will do nothing to speed up Alec’s return to him. If Alec wants to return to him, that is.

“Please still want me,” he whispers, feeling helpless and selfish and so very, very small.

“And when you kissed me,” he adds, swallowing back that lump in his throat, “when you did that; I don’t know if you felt it, but it was like… stars aligning. I have no other way of explaining the connection I felt with you in that moment, and every moment since then, but I… Alexander, there is something between us, deep, and eternal. I don’t know how I… Alec, I don’t know how I ever existed before that—before you,”

Magnus bites his lip and tries to hold back the onslaught of his words, because he’s never said them to Alec. Never voiced out loud that, to him, at least, their being together is more than infatuation and affection. There is something firmer, more solidifying than only that.

Maybe it’s _only_ love, Magnus huffs to himself, because it’s an argument he’s had with himself numerous times. The depth of all he feels for Alec, and that he knows Alec feels for him, seems endless and resonating. But perhaps that is simply because he’s never truly been loved before Alec, nor loved anyone as hard as he does now.  

It’s more than that, it is, Magnus insists to himself, it is, it’s everything. Perhaps he is a hopeless romantic, a fool for yearning for the kind of love he’s found with Alec, but he’s certain it’s bigger than some fleeting experience in passing.  

“You are all I will ever love,” Magnus says then, pure with conviction, because that is nothing but true. Whatever they go through, whatever will happen, Alec will be the single, most important, only love of his life.

“Come back to me, my love,” he whispers, allowing himself one light press of a kiss against Alec’s cheek, “come back to me,”

It’s not enough. Selfish, foolish, cursing himself for doing it, Magnus curls up in Alec’s side. Imagines the ghost of his arms around him and holds on to the idea with a vice like grip, pleading that the memory of such things is not destined to be something else he loses to the passage of time.

* * *

Magnus waits for Izzy, Jace, and Clary to leave before allowing his tears to start falling. It’s been weeks now that Alec’s been trapped in his other world, and Magnus is beginning to fear that he might not ever get him back.  

He’s not saying that to anyone else, of course. Pasting on a confident, composed smile anytime anyone asks how he’s doing, battling through the urge to break down in agony any time he hears a whisper of doubt.  

“I love you,” he says, for the hundredth time, for the thousandth time; it doesn’t matter. He’s never going to not mean it; however Alec comes back to him. Because he will come back, he will, Magnus tells himself, he must. Alec wouldn’t leave him like this, he loves him too much not to fight to get back to him. He knows it, Magnus repeats to himself, pleading with Alec all over again to return.

They’ll deal with whatever fallout comes of the venom, Magnus says to himself, as adamant in that conviction as he was the first time he said it. However Alec comes back to him, whatever he needs, wherever his future’s going to take him, Magnus intends to be there. Even if, Magnus adds, swallowing painfully at the thought, even if Alec needs some time away from him to recover. Even if he needs some space to get accustomed to everything that’s happened.

“Please don’t push me away,” Magnus whispers, rebuking himself for worrying about such a possibility before he’s even got Alec back with him. There are too many possibilities, too many different outcomes to consider, and all are pointless, futile things until Alec does return to him. He can do little more than wait, and Magnus is struggling really hard to fight against his typical impatience, because this is no one’s fault, and there’s no one to lash out against to ease the way he’s hurting. He has to wait. He has to wait, and be strong, and hold on for Alec.

“Come back to me, Alexander,” he says again, his voice cracking on every word, because however hard he’s trying to show that patience, he’s missing him so very much. It’s hard to do anything when his world is laying there lifeless before him.

“Please, come back,”

And it’s no use, Magnus thinks, collapsing under the weight of everything, it’s no use at all. He can’t hold back his tears, can’t avoid all the things he’s fearing, can’t stop worrying that this is it for Alec now. That there is no way for him to find his way back.

“Please,” he whispers anyway, sliding his fingertips beneath Alec’s palm to raise it up, kissing repeatedly over the back of his hand. He sweeps his other up to brush the hair away from his forehead, longing for the days when he could tangle his fingers through it; for affection, in the throes of passion, just because it was Alec, and Alec was his to touch.

“I love you, so very much,” he says then, thinking the words don’t really mean anything, not enough anyway. Not large enough or powerful enough or even gentle enough to convey just how much he does love him. Certainly not enough to help light the path for Alec to find his way back.

“Please… please don’t leave me here alone,”

Magnus is desperate. It’s been so long since he’s heard Alec’s voice that he’s frightened he’s forgotten the tone of it. So long since Alec’s reached for him, that Magnus isn’t sure he won’t crumble apart at the slightest touch. So long since—

Something is happening.

There is a twitch to his leg, a flinch to his arm, and as Magnus holds his breath and watches, he is sure he begins to see movement behind Alec’s eyelids. _Please_ , he whispers under his breath, not daring to move, _please please please_ …

And just when he begins to think it’s all been for nothing, just when the tendrils of hope loosen their grip in a cruel taunt, Alec is gasping, exhaling a deep, rumbling breath as though it’s his essence he’s breathing out.

Magnus dares not even blink.  

Hours pass, perhaps even eons, Magnus can no longer tell; his heart beating so hard, and his limbs so full of tremble, that he’s not convinced that he won’t shatter apart, atom by atom. And just as he’s about to break down into yet more tears of frustration, Alec snaps open his eyes.

He doesn’t see me, Magnus thinks, terrified, he doesn’t see me; why doesn’t he see me? And he follows the blurry sweep of Alec eyes as they dart about the room. But then he focuses, so hard it’s like he’s staring right through him, and Magnus can’t take it, he can’t take it, he—

“Al—”

Alec’s eyes blow wide in recognition. And it’s more than that; it’s in relief, it’s with fascination, and more than anything, it’s with love.  

“Magnus,” he whispers, and any strength left in Magnus crumbles, leaving him unable to hold back the tears he’s been keeping as he topples forward throwing his arms around him, and cries his way into Alec’s neck, calling out brokenly at the feel of arms lifting and looping around his waist to hold him back.

* * *

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Also... Odzer demons are, obviously, entirely made up. The name comes from the Armenian for snake, chosen at random because I liked the way it sounded on Google Translate :)
> 
> x


End file.
